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swan dive

Podiatrist, massage therapist, physical therapist, psychotherapist, acupuncturist. It wouldn’t be Swan Lake without a team of -ist‘s piecing me back together each week.

This week I’m making an effort to tap into the senses of Swan Lake. Odette’s fluttering heartbeat echoing in my toes, Odile’s conniving smile spreading across my face. Hour to hour, I’m transforming from light to dark to light, stretching through suspending adagios and whipping into tricky pirouettes, all with that signature flick of the wing. Between bloody toes and bruised feet I’m savoring moments of endorpin-fueled bliss. Those moments where my body gives into the music and my shoulders twist my neck down to see my reflection in that glassy lake, exposing my hyperextended elbows and skewing my line in a way that is finally not only allowed but encouraged. I’m settling into those little releases, finding the “me” in all of this classicism. Letting the score of my favorite ballet ring loudly in my ears and push me to fly higher. I’m treasuring each bead of sweat as it carves lines down my cheeks like swan tears, trophies of the hardest work I have ever done.

Life has this way of lining things up…of putting you on a precipice and letting you lean over the edge. I’m dangling my feet, dipping a toe in. Afraid of darkness, now I’m surprised by this light. The water is warm, my heart is happy, and I think I’m ready to swan dive…so watch me.